Kholoodered

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

I still remember the summer I got into the Harry Potter series. I was in Palestine, bored out of my mind, and a cousin of mine had the first three books (this was a few years ago, the summer the fourth book was due to be released). I was never much of a reader but I borrowed Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. I had doubts that I could get through a book over 200 pages. I finished within three days, and fell in love.
Now, years later, I found myself counting down the days until the seventh and final book of this most beloved installment came out. I was up and waiting in line (I was the third person in line) at 6:00 am the morning before Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows was set to be released just so I could get a confirmation ticket and be one of the first to get the book at midnight.
Once I got the book, it was near impossible to stop reading to go to work, run errands, etc. When I wasn't at home reading, I was constantly wishing I was. I finished the book yesterday and couldn't be more pleased. The book was perfection.
I have to admit, before the book came out I was constantly dreading the end...not just how J.K Rowling ended the book (and whether or not our courageous hero that we all came to know and love survives to conquers evil), but the fact that this was it. The end of what I believe to be one of the most cherished book series of my time. I grew up with these characters, some I love while others were left to be despised as if they had personally hurt and offended me.
I haven't read any book reviews, but I don't need to. The plot was fantastic, the twists and turns kept me glued to the book. Even characters who I thought I had all figured out had unexpected surprises and secrets, which only made them all the more lovable, endearing, and even tragic. Rowling's final book was, again, perfect. She answered our burning questions but still kept us guessing 'til the end. Although the book was full of heartache, the closure that proceeded it (and no, I'm not referring to the epilogue, which was good but paled in comparison to the rest of the book. This was a classic case of how the journey really was just as, if not more, important than the inevitable destination) was just that...closure. That's what the book left me with. As much as I thought I'd dread the end, because God knows how I hate to reach the end of a good thing, like the last bite of a delicious cake, I wasn't left with any bittersweet taste in my mouth. I wasn't left longing for more books. I have the whole series that I now can read and re-read to my heart's desire, and that is how I know the seventh book was perfection.

Friday, July 13, 2007

I'm a baseball fan, but I am by no means an expert and God knows I don't know every player on every team in major league baseball (I'm a local kind of gal. I love my Cardinals and try to pay as much attention to them as I can, and if I happen to pick up a thing or two from around the league, well...all the better. Sidenote: fantasy baseball will force you to really take it all in and make you appreciate individual players' performances even more) . I'm just sittin here watching the All-Star game that I DVRed a few days ago, and I actually found myself teary-eyed...before the game even started. Willie Mays, a San Francisco legend that, I'll be honest, have never heard of until a few minutes ago, threw out the first pitch to Jose Reyes. It wasn't the part where Reyes got up and rushed over to Mays to get the ball signed that got to me, it was, of course, the overly emotional music that filled the background while Mays rode around the stadium in that pink convertable (I just realized how sad this sounds. I sound like a mindless idiot...being controlled...by the man...hmmm...).
What is it about sports tributes and that Godforsaken, heartwrenching orchestrated music that tugs at our hearts? Honestly, sports is emotional enough as it is, especially when you're personally invested in it (and by personally invested, I mean your Cards are just one game, nay! one inning away from goin' to the world series, with the bases loaded and Carlos Khara Beltran up to bat at the bottom of the ninth. Or even the Rams are in double overtime during the playoffs and they get knocked out because of a lousy fieldgoal that crushes your spirit like a young child realizing santa's not real).
To be fair, they play the same damn music at the Oscars when they go through the tributes to those who've passed over the year, but they don't need it in sports. I mean, there's more than enough emotional crap to deal with...the excitement, anxiety, and occasional despair. Yay! National League just scored first. Although it sucks that there aren't any Cards players starting, Tony's a coachin' and I believe he's long overdue for a win. And don't worry, there won't be anymore moments of weakness for me in this game. I've got nothing personal invested in it, so for once I can enjoy a game while being disconnected, detached. But still, when emotions are running high and you need to just let it out...well, who says there's no crying in baseball?!?

Sunday, July 8, 2007

Yesterday I was at my cousin's house where we watched, oh, God knows how many "Sex and the City" episodes before I decided to call it a night. Of course, before I left, we had to have the usual "Big vs. Aidan" debate in terms of who Carrie should've ended up with (she, crazy as she is, was all for Big while I passionately opted for Aidan, who on the show personified perfection). First, let me say that I wish people were as passionate about the upcoming elections, the crisis in Darfur, or the hell-on-earth raging in Palestine, which includes human rights violations, occupation, and now the political upheaval. (Although these are extremely important issues, I'm allowing my short-attention span to stray from the topic at hand...)
As important as these issues are, "Sex and the City" popped up again in a conversation, this time at work. This morning I came in and, while chatting with my co-worker, came across the news online that a "Sex and the City" movie is in the makes (what the movie will feature that the show hasn't covered in its captivating six seasons is beyond me). Somehow the "Big vs. Aidan" showdown began...again, only this time my co-worker, surprisingly expressing more passion than even me on the topic, enthusiastically agreed with my take on Aidan being "the One." Eventually we calmed down and returned to our separate tasks, but that got me thinking... why do we care so much? Neither of us have anything invested in it, and yet we act as if a great injustice has been done to us because Carrie ended up with a guy who repeatedly mistreated her and broke her heart time and time again throughout the series.
Maybe it's just frustrating to watch people, even fictional characters, make obvious and avoidable mistakes. Or maybe we, as two singles, were just outraged that she took this amazing guy for granted not once, but twice. Since when do T.V plots replace our own plots? Are we living through these characters, or does this form of entertainment, this escapism, make reality all the harsher when we return? When we return to being two single gals in a world where, unfortunately, Darfur, Palestine, Iraq, hunger, poverty, and the Bush administration are our realities.

Thursday, July 5, 2007

I guess this makes me an official blogger now. I've got a blog that I occasionally blog in on my myspace page, so I'm not exactly a newbie at this (sorry, at this point I'm just really liking the word "blog"), but this just feels more legit. Like, I've really established myself as a blogger now. I suppose I'm ready to conquer the world. Don't worry, I'm not going to continue blogging about blogging. This just goes to show what a bored mind at work will come to. I'm currently working at Webster University's Help Desk, but can I just put one thing out there? If you call me for help, don't act like I'm being a burden.
I just finished reading my cousin's 2007 Cardinals Clubhouse blog and it had me crackin' up, so I'm plugging her blog in mine (oohhh no she di'int! Yeah, I just did). Her blog is Arabish and if you're a World Series Champs St. Louis Cardinals fan you'll love it. Even if you're not, chances are you'll come across an amusing thing or two. Okay well, my lean pocket in the kitchen awaits. Just a fair warning, though... although most of my blogs will probably focus on something specific, be it politics or music or even sports (though it won't be too elaborate if it is sports-related. I'm a fan for sure, but I certainly don't claim to know it all), there may, however, be a fair amount of randomness.
Here's to a long and successful relationship...with my blog! Cheers.

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About Me

I'm a Palestinian-American photography major with a minor in journalism. I love “Daily Show with Jon Stewart” and people who care. I hate Fox News and people who don't care. As cliché as this may sound, I believe individuals can make a difference (but I am by no means a complete optimist). I am, however, a dreamer.